Ever since the expedition to Mexico returned, the local settlements have been engaged in wall-building, hoping to protect themselves from local threats and the looming terror that is the Horde-- what's left of it, anyway, rolling over the countryside. Such projects demand an abundance of raw material, and the Roswell scrapyard remains one of the most central and available sources.

All those here have come for their own reasons. The lumbering Ashur, in his glimmering white cloak, pokes through a stack of rusted-out car husks even taller than him, while the little redhead Eden lingers at his side. "What is this thing you're looking for, my Eden?" The super mutant rumbles, casually lifting a car up with a screech of metal that shakes the whole pile.

And shakes it.

And shakes it! Oh, hell, now tons of metal are sliding and slipping, the car the behemoth moved tilting over and rolling down the scrap hill, as the ground shudders and shakes. The vast mountain of scrap topples.. and reveals, behind it, covertly established behind these piles, a glowing shrine. Is that a Fat Man held up in an old arcade claw machine?

It sure fuckin' is! The whole thing glows with ambient radiation.. and around it, crawling through scrap-tunnels, are a group of rotting worshippers! Too many to count, and others are still moving through the yard, drawn by the commotion. Dozens of ghouls, at the least, spread out, groups of green and red and blue, filling the air with their toxic incandescence. And leading the congregations is a handful of tall and powerful Glowing Ones!

"Back, Eden!" The mutant commands-- and this will roughly be when others in the area show up.

Alasa is around, because...well there is always good stuff around this place...she often comes here, or in town..in town is nice too, such nice shops they have... But for now she is moving around here. Playing it safe, she has her bow out as she pokes around..."Well, thats something you don't see alot of."

Eden hears the danger in Ashur's voice before she sees them. Dodging the falling scrap she hops backwards. But she knows Ashur won't run with her so she isn't going too far. Right up front is never the best place for her, but she has to try to help. If nothing more than having her stimpak ready to heal him with. Looking for a good spot to shoot from, Eden pulls her gun and the stimpak from her backpack to have them ready.

There's nothing like a lot of crashing and shrieking to get one's attention. Jacqueline Wayne, here for the scavving as most people tend to be, blinks in surprise at the sight of Ashur and Eden... and in dismay at the sight of the sudden crowd of radioactive ghouls! "So much for a quiet day in Roswell, picking through the junk," she murmurs, waving overhead and rushing to join the two familiar faces. "I'll back you up!" she promises, hefting her long double-barreled shotgun indicatively.

Zealot Shreya was creeping around the scrapyard collecting salvage and exposing herself to the glow when she heard the excited growling of the forsaken. Voices of men too and women. She sighs and climbs up to the top of a scrap heap to get a good vantage point to see whats going on. Seeing what is about to happen she doesnt say anything to draw attention to herself, rather lays down on top of one massive scrap pile and aims in with a .308 sniper rifle. That red super mutant should be purged but for now, he appears to be working against the forsaken. She can deal with him later.

There's only one person who commands as much allegiance from Lieutenant Cleopatra McKinsey as the El Dorado Militia's leadership does, and that man works for Lone Star Caravans: Ian McKinsey, her own father. Hence, she's not out in the wasteland on the militia's behalf, for once: she's requested the day off to do her father a favour that should, ultimately, be to the benefit of the militia anyway. She's out here to help a new caravaneer out with one of the routes that's fairly important with the need for scrap for construction: the El Dorado to Roswell line.

Of course, she's still dressed in militiawear, black hat and duster and all, carbine slung over her shoulder. When the commotion with the debris reaches her ears, she frowns. "Ah, shit. Someone started an anvilanche," she grumbles to her traveling companion as she unslings her carbine. "Better go check if anyone's hurt. Get your gun ready, though - could be any damn thing out here." She's heard the rumours about Roswell, after all.

Matt is out in the scrapyard accompanying the Militia Officer, Cleo. Its tough being the new guy all over again, but accompanying pretty ladies out into the wasteland isn't a bad gig at all. He winces at the sound of metal against metal. His rifle comes off from across his back and loops his left arm through its sling a few times before following the young lady off towards the sound of fighting and such.

Arriving first, Matt comes about the corner and takes half a breath to evaluate the situation. Big scary mutant, need to shoot. But its facing towards Ghouls and theres a woman behind her. More ghouls than mutants, means shoot ghouls first. "Ghouls." He calls out over his shoulder before he squares up his rifle against his shoulder and looses four bullets spinning downrange past the red-head and red-everything to go wide.

Eden sees her Ashur take down one of the ghouls and fires at the next one over. First a miss, but a second shot hits! Eden grins and watches. It doesn't go down. She sees other people coming and hopes they know who Ashur is and don't shoot at him too!

Something that makes a weird noise slams into Jackie from behind, nearly knocking her sprawling. "Ow! Owie-owie-ow..." she yelps, turning and firing into the mass of green ghouls that are swarming around Ashur. At least one goes down, to her relief. She ducks behind some of the piled-up scrap, close to Eden. "I think we're in trouble..."

Cleo's lips curl downward at the edges as she beats feet in an effort to get closer to the hordes of feral ghouls - a rash decision, but there are at least a few civilians who appear to have been picking through the dump, along with a... super-Mutant? On the plus side, it's clear from the fact that the mutant just obliterated one of the ghouls that it's not working against them yet, at least. "Matt, careful! Keep at a distance. You should be able to hit them from here," she says as she brings her own carbine up. She doesn't pull the trigger yet, though.

"Hey red guy! Keep the glowing ones off the civs and I'll buy you a beer later!" she calls out. "Militia officer McKinsey here! Anyone who can fall back toward this position! Stay out of the firing lines! If you can't, fall back and keep a crossfire going! If you can't shoot, get the fuck out of there! Focus fire on your closest targets! Avoid the glowing ones!"

Shreya was trying to provide some overwatch to the people being eaten below, but then the scrap pile she is on lurches dangerously. Two glowing ones are scrambling up with hungry maws dripping with saliva and growling their derision. She looks horrified. "Not yet," she says with terror filled eyes. The zealot scrambles down the other side, leaving the rest of you to whatever cannibalistic fate is in store.

As the tumbling trash piles settle, and the ocean of multicolored ghouls manifests, Ashur bellows-- and what a roar it is, the behemoth's lungs putting any wild beast to shame! Every eye locks upon the caped crusader, who storms, barefoot, across the shifting hills of old cars and broken televisions and bedframes. His foot slides, kicking aside a spring, and he spills forward until he's hunched on all fours, running on hands and feet over the hill and barreling down on the makeshift shrine.

"I'll rip you apart!" He screams, and the Glowing Ones turn dead, shining eyes upon him, their faces twisting in wrath. They make some unearthly noise as the berserker descends, and as one the colored swarms surge forth, an ocean of flesh-- they fill the air with their radiation, the colors joining together in a lovely toxic rainbow, body after body swamping the ten-foot giant.

Bullets fly from the others, some charming militia officer organizes them, and tells him to do something.. but he ignores it, doesn't hear it, feeling fetid nails claw at his exposed skin. A female Glowing One prepares to rad-bomb him, as a few others cling to his arms, to his back-- Ashur lunges, pouncing, grabs her by the head, and rips himself out of the body pile, smashing her over and over and over and over against a car's bumper until there's no longer a head, just a deformed pile of melting brain and popped eyeballs and red froth.

Lee was along with the others and when the whole chaos of the melee blows up, he's quick to switch to that sledge with narrowed eyes inside the armor. Hissing at that pain of the burn from radiation hits him, he'd grit his teeth. "Ya'll wanna dance? Fine.. let's dance.. You.. me.. and my hammer!!" With that, the super sledge is swung in a wicked arc at the glowy one, the pistons firing just as it'd manage to duck back. However, it wasn't expecting that rapid backhand swing from Lee, who knocks it crashing to the ground with the thrum of pistons firing in the sledge.

Matt aims downbarrel towards the ensuing chaos of feral ghouls, centering his sights upon the one he previously attempted to shoot. But he does see a glowing one fall down, and go boom. So he shifts over and fires that way, but misses with both rounds. "There sure are a lot of them here, ma'am."

Eden ducks down and reloads her weapon before shooting again. Moving too quickly, her grip slips a bit and some of the bullets go wild. She tugs it back tight as the rounds continue to go off and manages to, once again, barely hit the big ghoul. Eden pauses and attempts to get a good look at the fat man statue they are gathered around.

Hardman Strolls his way into the scrapyard - that damn radiation always made his skin itch, eventually it'd probably fall off, he thoug - Holy. Fucking. Shit - What the FUCK is that. Piercing green eyes light up and without fully processing his own actions, he springs to life, carbine raising to his shoulder and and a dexterious thumb flicking it onto fire, quickly taking in the scenario as much as he could, he aims for the first group of ghouls he deems a threat and squeezes off a round, "Is that thing fucking hostile?!" he shouts, clearly indicating the elephant - or rather - super mutant in the room.

Meanwhile, a single 5mm round rips through the right arm of one of the ghouls.

The scene is chaos. These aren't Cleo's soldiers that she's working with - wait, are they? She hears the familiar sound of a super sledge discharging and her head snaps over toward it - in time to see one of the glowing ghouls knocked on its radioactive ass. The corner of her lip turns up in a smile.

"Alright, kid. Remember to aim for center mass - focus fire on the ones that're lit up already. Let's try take out the blue group next," she tells Matt, her voice audible over the bark of her own carbine as she perforates the wounded Glowing One with three clean shots, sending it to the ground in a spray of fluorescent ichor.

"Militia, look to confirm kills! Don't just leave them bleeding!" She swivels toward the swarm of blue mutant-ghouls and rattles off a spray of bullets into them, splattering the blood of one of the blue ferals all over a pile of irradiated all-weather tires.

Silver Silver quickly whips his gun from his back and fires a string of shots into the large glowing ghoul. The glint of his eye and smile on his mouth are lit by the muzzle flash as he quickly puts lots of holes in it from a very far distance away.

Chaos is slowly dying down though. Matt turns to look towards the Blue Swarm that Cleo has directed him towards, but shes in the midst of them, so he pops off his shots towards the green swarm. The mutant has taken the brunt of the damage, and *seems* to be on their side. He hits home with all of his bullets, clearing out the swarm attempting to drag down the mutant down. "Get clear so we can shoot'em, Ma'am."

Lee grunts as the glowy one he'd knocked on his rear gets shot up. Hearing Cleo call out, he'd grin wickedly within that helm. Across their radio would come that familiar click and drawl. "Roj LT." Lee watches as the other swarms get pulped and the red group comes rushing at him. Eyes narrowed he'd motion them on with one hand, then readies that sledge! The three ghouls would try to get at him, but Lee's able to avoid one. The next tries to bite his arm, which is just ignored. That last one gets an actual bite in on him, causing his leg to bleed. "Gahh! 'right.. time fer ya'll ta.. die!" Lashing out with that super sledge, Lee's able to shatter the one Ghoul and send it into the next. Followed up with some nice fire support and they're all quickly laid to waste. Lee stumbles and drops to a knee, panting softly. "Blast it.. LT. They got my leg.. but.. confirm kill, yah?"

Eventually the ghoul crowds thin, and Matt reloads his rifle to full. He waits a few beats to see what else comes crawling out of nowhere, before unbrandishing his rifle and beginning to pick up stray brass from the ground, to tuck into his pockets. "Nothings ever boring with you, huh ma'am?"

Battle. Battle is chaos, and a field of evil. Hardman, looks like a true demon of the field. His posture is slightly hunched forward as the tip of his carbine barks with the fury of a trained combatant, painting an artistic picture of brutal sprays of Ghoulish blood and ichor to the skies. He moves, his steps assured and in a tactical posture, "Mop 'em up!" he shouts, his roar overtaking even the sounds of gun fire as the automatic bursts exit his rifle, trailing into the different groups as either group seems more an immediate threat than the last. It was coming to a close soon, it was obvious, their numbers were dwindling, and soon the masterpiece of brutish wasteland massacre would be painted in full, the dust-riddled wasteland ground of the scrapyard to be painted in Ghoul blood.

Jackie ducks down to reload her empty shotgun. Her fingers frantically fumble the shells from her pocket into the empty chambers... and with a solid *click* the action is closed, the gun ready to fire!She rises to her feet taking aim at... nothing! The ghouls have all been blasted out of existence, strewn across the junk in colorfully disgusting heaps. "Okay... I guess I missed the last of the fight," she murmurs regretfully. "Everybody okay?" She glances at Ashur. "Um, relatively speaking?"

At the shrine to the broken Fat Man, Ashur is swamped by ghouls left and right; they bloody his hulking frame, leaving claw marks in his rough flesh, as the glowing ones join in. He doesn't notice how all the other monsters slip past him-- he's only focused on the ones that are before him, smashing and hurling left and right. There's no grace in the behemoth's rampage, no finesse; in his wrath, there's naught but brute force, until everything in his immediate vicinity is a messy paste.

"Degenerate hounds," he spits, reaching down to lift the barely-alive corpse of a Glowing One at his feet. It weakly hisses, and claws at him-- Ashur grasps it by the wrists and twists, folding them back, until the bones snap and it howls. He throws it over his shoulder, climbs over the rubble, and, heedless of the gathered group that might be wary of a super mutant, stalks toward.. an old utility pole! Reaching down, he picks up a jagged shard of metal-- some bit of old car door, probably-- and slams the ghoul against the pole.

He lifts it high off the ground, and holds its broken wrists up high above its head, hands clasped together-- and then impales the hands with the metal, spiking the ghoul to the pole. Its feet kick and dangle as it bleeds.

It's a very roughly-down crucifixion, and wouldn't really meet the Legion's standards, but it's enough for Ashur now.

"Roswell is not yours, you monsters! Begone!"

Whether anything in the city hears his yell, or cares, well, that's another matter.

As one of the blue ghouls staggers into her, Cleo raises her carbine defensively, grabbing the stock and barrel with gloved hands to fend off its thrashing, filth-ridden nails and drooling maw. "Fucker," she growls as she lifts her boot and plants it sole-first against the former human being's abdomen, toppling it backward. She shifts up her grip and smashes the butt of the carbine over the ghoul's cranium, driving it face-down to a mouthful of dirt, before flipping the gun around and putting two in the ghoul's head - just to be sure.

She draws in a deep breath and exhales as Matt and Lee approach. She turns to the caravaneer first, quirking a half-smile. "Week never goes by where somethin' doesn't try to murder you in the militia, kid. And caravaning's the same way. Make sure you keep up on your target practice."

Turning to Lee, she frowns and approaches the injured armored galoot. "C'mon, soldier. On your feet before you get me thinking I'm some kind of queen," she says as she offers a hand to help him up.